


The Dating Game

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Dating, Dinner, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, nygmobblepotweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 02:50:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14010534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: While enjoying a nice dinner out, Oswald asks Ed what it's like to date someone. Good thing it's Valentine's Day.First prompt for Nygmobblepot Week March 2018: ‘Fake Dating/Fake Marriage’





	The Dating Game

‘Sorry’, the receptionist said without looking up, ‘It’s only couples in tonight’.

‘Excuse me. We have a reservation. Under Mayor Cobblepot’.

The receptionist raised her head from her reservation book to properly examine the two men at the desk and felt the bottom of her stomach drop when she recognised them instantly. The taller member of the duo was regarding her coldly with dark eyes through spotless spectacles. The other half was a shorter man with black, crest like hair, gloved fingers clasped around the head of a cane shaped like a bird’s head. Mayor Cobblepot and his chief of staff, Edward Nygma.

‘Oh! I am so sorry!’ the receptionist hastily backtracked, a nervous smile creeping onto her face, ‘I didn’t realise it was y-‘

‘It’s fine’, Nygma interjected, ‘Could we have a table with some privacy please?’

‘Of course! Right this way!’ the receptionist smiled desperately fumbling for some menus as she began to lead them into the restaurant. 

 

‘Ed, are you sure about this?’ Oswald said quietly as they progressed towards their table, ‘People will see and-and we don’t want them to get the wrong i-‘

‘Let them’, Ed said, waving a hand, ‘Good publicity and more importantly a good way to win votes’.

He breezed past the receptionist and sat at the table she was indicating. Oswald also took a seat and accepted a menu. 

‘I suppose it would be hypocritical of a politician to insist on honesty wouldn’t it?’ Oswald commented, examining the wine list as the receptionist scurried away.

‘Technically Valentine’s Day can also be celebrated between close friends’, Ed said, watching her go, ‘I could do worse than the most powerful man in Gotham as my ‘date’’.

‘I suppose I’ll be picking up the check then?’

‘It’s technically a ‘first date’’, Ed joked, ‘We’ll go Dutch’.

Around them, various couples were enjoying their meals, some with red roses on the table that could be purchased at reception for a few dollars. The restaurant was always popular but on Valentine’s Day it was virtually impossible to secure a reservation. Oswald hadn’t even realised the significance of the day until they had walked in and realised Ed must have had to slightly ‘exaggerate’ the level of their friendship to secure a table. It was a masquerade that Oswald was secretly delighted to play along with.

‘Would you ever get back into dating?’ Oswald asked, looking around at the other occupied tables.

‘I don’t know’, Ed admitted, placing his napkin on his knee, ‘I suppose if the right person came along’.

‘What kind of person?’

‘Smart, witty, confident’, Ed listed off then grimaced, ‘Not dead’.

‘Good looks not high on your wish list?’

‘It’s what’s inside that counts’.

‘What do you find attractive though? From a physical point of view’.

‘Why do you ask?’

Oswald’s eyes darted away for a split second.

‘Just in the spirit of the season’, he offered.

While Ed pondered the question, a waitress took their order and brought them a wine of Oswald’s choice. Ed always trusted him to pick a good vintage.

‘I think a person’s eyes’, Ed eventually replied, watching Oswald pour him a glass, ‘You just look at them and see so much about who that person is. It’s like peeking behind the curtain or like when you pick up a present and shake it’.

‘Anything else?’ Oswald asked.

‘Promise you won’t laugh’, Ed said then continued, instinctively trusting Oswald would comply with his request, ‘I love a good neck. And trust me I know how morbid that is’.

‘I was expecting a scientist like you to say their ‘femurs’ or something’, Oswald joked, turning the bottle to his own glass.

‘What about you?’ Ed asked, taking a sip of wine.

Oswald winced as he spilt a few drops of wine on the table while pouring his own drink. Ed conspiratorially moved a bottle of sauce to conceal the stains.

‘Me?’

‘The King of Gotham’s bound to have swept a few queens off their feet’, Ed said, winking.

Oswald lowered the bottle of wine and idly ran a fingertip around the top. He should have anticipated his curiosity to be turned against him like this but he had been too eager to get Ed’s answer to adequately prepare for it.

‘Sorry to disappoint you and thank you for the flattery but no’, Oswald said, examining the tablecloth, ‘Sticking with our theme of honesty, I’ve never been on a date’.

Ed tried to conceal his surprise, not wishing to inadvertently insult Oswald. 

‘I suppose being in control of a criminal empire doesn’t leave time for anything else’, he theorised.

‘I could make the time if I wanted. It’s just…I’ve never been’, Oswald gestured with his hands as if trying to pluck the phrase he was seeking from empty air,’…interested in that kind of thing’. 

He took a swig of wine and exhaled deeply.

‘You think that’s weird’, he said, ‘I can see it in your face’.

‘Is that why you asked me about what I find attractive?’ Ed asked, ‘Because you don’t experience that kind of attraction yourself?’

‘Could you stop being so smart for five minutes?’ Oswald grumbled, ‘I’ve done my own ‘research’ into attraction but I just thought I’d ask someone who won’t...think it’s ridiculous’.

The waitress came back and took their order, granting Ed a welcome reprieve to consider his words carefully. Oswald fiddled with one of his chopsticks, looking ill at ease and regretful. Ed decided the best tactic was simple honesty. 

‘I don’t think it’s ridiculous or weird’, Ed said, ‘Why would I?’ 

‘My mother always seemed shocked that women weren’t lining up trying to break our door down. Or that I wasn’t chasing them’.

‘Maybe you’re interested in a different…kind of chase?’ Ed asked diplomatically.

‘I…I have no idea’, Oswald said ponderously, brow furrowed, ‘I just remember thinking early on that ‘romance’ as a concept just wasn’t for me’.

‘For some people it isn’t’, Ed said, ‘I would say though that ‘research’ and practice are very different things’.

‘Come on Ed’, Oswald laughed humourlessly, ‘Can you picture me married in a house with kids and a white picket fence? It’s almost grotesque’.

‘I know we’re mutually agreed on the ‘love as a weakness’ philosophy’, Ed said, corners of his mouth turning up into a smile, ‘But don’t tell me you don’t like the idea of an army of little Cobblepots’.

‘That is a terrifying image’, Oswald laughed, more genuinely this time.

‘Not half as scary as an army of little Nygmas’, Ed added.

‘Agreed’, Oswald said with fake disgust, all traces of unease evaporating.

‘Here’s to us’, Ed said, holding up his glass, The ‘dateless wonders’’.

‘Cheers’, Oswald said as they clinked their wine glasses together.

They made idle conversation for a time, enjoying the atmosphere and each other’s company. Whilst they saw each other every day, there was often little time to just relax. Oswald’s position meant that their days were strictly timetabled and even most nights involved a fundraiser or benefit of some kind. It was exhausting but fulfilling for them both. During a natural lull in the conversation, their food arrived: a veritable banquet of Chinese dishes. Conversation was strictly off limits while they both devoted all their energy to filling their stomachs and a while later, both men leant back in their chairs, feeling warm and full.

‘Hypothetically though-‘ Ed began, reaching for the last prawn cracker.

‘Here it comes’, Oswald remarked drily.

‘-what would you do on a date?’ Ed concluded.

‘Something like this I guess’, Oswald replied, grateful he had now had a couple of glasses of wine, ‘An intimate, candlelit dinner. Good chance to really talk and get to know each other’.

‘That sounds nice’.

‘You?’

‘I’d probably cook dinner but other than that pretty much the same as you. Maybe some kind of shared activity we both enjoy?’

Oswald couldn’t help but draw comparisons with how he and Ed had shared a meal in his apartment then butchered Galavan’s lackey, Mr Leonard, together. He adjusted his collar surreptitiously. Had that been Ed’s idea of a date? 

‘Curry a little hot tonight huh?’ Ed said smiling, ‘Your cheeks are r-‘

‘I thought you would have liked one of those ‘escape’ rooms?’ Oswald interrupted, ‘Really show off your riddles and stuff’.

‘I don’t know about that’, Ed said wryly, ‘People don’t seem to like it when you come up to them and offer a riddle or a fact out of the blue’.

Oswald shifted his shoulders uncomfortably as he remembered the first time he and Ed had spoken at the GCPD. Oswald supposed Ed had a right to hold it over his head: he had been very impolite and misjudged Ed badly.

‘The riddles are definitely for a fifth or sixth date’, Ed said, nodding sagely, heedless of Oswald’s ruffled feathers.

‘Because by then they’re invested’, Oswald analysed, ‘There’s no escape’.

‘Correct!’ Ed said, using his chopstick to make a ‘ding’ noise against a glass, ‘I am a decidedly acquired taste’.

‘What did you find hardest about dating?’

‘Getting on the date in the first place’, Ed replied immediately, ‘Asking them out’.

‘Really? I always thought that part would be like a bandaid. Just rip it off and it’s over with’.

‘Romantic image’, Ed commented sardonically.

‘I told you romance isn’t my thing’, Oswald shrugged.

‘Go on then. Pretend I’m someone you want to ask out on a date. Difficult I know but let’s use our imaginations’.

‘Why?’ Oswald asked, fingers drumming on the tabletop as he took another spring roll with his other hand.

‘It’s an experiment’.

‘Okay’, Oswald said, placing his shaking hands in his lap.

‘Whenever you’re ready’, Ed said casually, completely oblivious to Oswald’s racing heart.

Oswald cleared his throat (surprised butterflies didn’t flutter up from his stomach and erupt from his mouth) and said:-

‘Ed, we’ve known each other for a long time now but every time I see your face it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time. My heart skips a beat. Despite how we’re always together, it’s always exciting and I can’t imagine life without you. You make every day special but today I would lo-I want to show you how much I…I appreciate you. Everything you do for me. Everything you make me feel. So, will you please do me the honour of joining me for dinner this evening as my Valentine?’

Oswald, having finished his speech, risked actually looking at Ed’s face and was rewarded with a visible blush cresting Ed’s high cheekbones.

‘Wow’, Ed breathed appreciatively.

‘Too much?’ Oswald winced.

‘You sure you’ve never been on a date before?’ Ed asked suspiciously, ‘Anybody would find it hard to resist moves like that! Kudos for not resorting to a fun fact or trivia’.

‘Like emperor penguins balancing an egg on their feet?’ Oswald teased, trying to ignore the contradictory cocktail of disappointment and elation pumping through his veins.

‘You never know when that might come in handy’, Ed chided.

‘So, your experiment proves I’ve got the skills, I just don’t have the inclination’.

‘Who knows? Maybe you just haven’t met the right person yet’.

Oswald nodded, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Why was it so much easier to stare down a room full of gun wielding mobsters than it was to look in Ed’s warm, dark eyes?

‘Well, if and or when I ever do’, Oswald said, deliberately grinning, ‘You’ll be the first to know’.

‘I hope so’, Ed said as the waitress reappeared to clear the table.

‘Hi guys, is that everything?’ she asked, as the last of the dishes were taken away.

‘I think so’, Oswald said, ‘Thank you’.

‘No prob’, she smiled, ‘Remember, all couples eat half price tonight okay?’

Oswald was about to reply but the feeling of Ed’s hand being placed over his silenced him instantly.

‘That’s great’, Ed said, winking at the waitress, ‘Thanks’. 

Oswald barely noticed the waitress leave. All he could think about was the warmth of Ed’s palm and the way his fingers interlinked with his. How long had it been since he had held someone’s hand? He blinked hard when he realised it had probably been his mother’s hand. The only person he ever touched now…was Ed. But now Ed was touching him. More intimately than their casual hugs or reassuring pats on the back. And his hand was still there!

‘Sorry. Have to make it look convincing right?’ Ed said quietly, noticing Oswald staring at their hands, ‘Unless you want to buy me a rose?’

‘I’m wise to you Nygma’, Oswald smirked, feeling giddy as Ed’s fingertips swirled on the back of his hand.

‘Oh really?’ Ed asked grinning.

‘Couples eat half price?’, Oswald said, leaning in furtively, ‘This was your plan all along’.

‘Are you complaining?’

‘I can’t complain about such a diabolical scheme though I take it your half is the half that’s free?’

‘No. I’m treating you’, Ed said, ‘Just take it out of my wages’.

Oswald was about to reply when the waitress returned.

‘Sorry to interrupt again guys’, she said with an apologetic smile, ‘But, just because of the occasion, would you like a complimentary photo taken?’

Oswald looked at Ed questioningly and was rewarded with an affirmative nod.

‘Why not?’ Oswald said, stifling the giggle that threatened to spill from between his lips.

They posed accordingly and a moment later there was a flash.

 

It was raining as they left the restaurant. Oswald opened his umbrella and held the door open for Ed as he exited. Ed handed Oswald the now developed photograph and he nodded approvingly.

‘It turned out well’, Oswald said as he offered Ed the photo back.

Ed held up an arresting hand as he took the umbrella from Oswald with his other hand.

‘You keep it’, Ed smiled, tapping the side of his head with his finger, ‘Photographic memory’.

As they began to walk back to the car, Oswald tucked the photo inside his coat, savouring how its chosen pocket nestled beside his heart. And there it would stay. Something to keep him warm on cold, rainy days. He made a silent promise to take it out again one day and frame it. But only once he had told Ed how he felt.


End file.
